Feeling festive (WotW) on Magical Arts Room and Sports

Michael Grosvenor

August 05, 2011 6:22 AM

Feeling festive (WotW) by Michael Grosvenor

It had taken a while for Michael to think of coming to MARS. He wasn’t, as a rule, interested in anything the rooms had to offer and his initial thought had been to write home and ask for some craft paper. But when he’d asked one of his roommates how long they thought it would take the owl to get there and back, they’d reminded him he could find what he was looking for in the school.

As he entered the enchanted room, a festive scene appeared on the magical walls. There was the image of a towering tree, aglow with non-magical fairy lights. That was just what he needed – Christmas as it was to him, in all its wonky, hand-made glory. Having found coloured paper, scissors and glue with help from one of the portraits, he settled automatically down by the image of the fire. It wasn’t giving out any warmth and they didn’t even have a real fire at home, he’d only seen people gather around them on cards or in films, but nonetheless it felt comforting to sit by it.

As he worked, he enjoyed the gentle noise of the paper. He’d come to associate the rustling with irritation, as his classmates shuffled for their notebooks and the sound disrupted what he was trying to listen to. Now, with nothing else to focus on, he appreciated his ability to hear it. The fact that he could hear that soft susurrus was miraculous. He fumbled under his hair and switched the aids off for a second…. gone. Back on. He didn’t move the paper for a moment, listening as hard as he could for tiny noises. Did the paintings here breathe, or was that just him?

After a few moments indulging in the calm quiet, he took up his scissors and began to cut long thin strips of paper. At first the noise of the scissors chomping their way through the delicate fibres seemed to take up the whole room. As he worked, Michael began softly singing Christmas songs under his breath, without really realising he was doing it. It was just how you were at this time of year. In spite of adding his own murmuring to the steady shunk-shunk-shunk of the scissors going through paper, the room was still relatively quiet and so he clearly heard the clunk of the door handle turning.

"Hi," he smiled, looking up at the person who had entered.

13 Michael Grosvenor Feeling festive (WotW) 199 Michael Grosvenor 1 5

Jenny Owens

August 08, 2011 3:11 PM

The mood spreads.. by Jenny Owens

When Jenny limped past the entrance to MARS she was thinking only of rest and relaxation. She had had a long, hard day. Having woken with a splitting headache and twisting her ankle not an hour later falling down the stairs, she had been unable to concentrate on anything anyone told her all day – leaving her with work unfinished and too much to complete. All she wanted was to curl up in bed, at her real home, with a hot chocolate. For life to be simple; easy. To have someone who would just stay with her, without having to make small talk.

But, as life often does, it didn’t work out that way. Instead, she was limping around the building searching for some place quiet where she could be alone.

She had heard of MARS before she had arrived at the school – someone had told her about it on the coach. She had no desire to visit any of the rooms – the only one which vaguely appealed to her was the arts room (seeing as she wanted to be an artist when she was older, this made sense) but she was put off by the ‘talking portraits which guide and help in your work.’ She did not like to be tutored in her art – it was the only thing she could do by herself. But, perhaps, today the room would be her saviour.

The sight that greeted her was the opposite of what she felt. It was merrily festive – bright colours and dancing flames – whereas she felt moody and surly. And there was someone there already. But she felt her tired heart begin to warm at the image before her. The boy, who she didn’t know, was working on something the muggle way – the same way she liked to do something. He glanced up and greeted her, and she felt herself grin and wave back, walking over to him.

She did not take a seat beside the fake fire, as he had, but rather sat on the floor, her legs stretched before her, and watched him work with a half smile on her face. The automatic taking of the lower position, the pleasure at someone who obviously knew what they were doing, made her realise – what she really wanted was for someone to tell her what to do.

‘Can I help?’ She asked quietly.

0 Jenny Owens The mood spreads.. 0 Jenny Owens 0 5

Michael

August 15, 2011 9:48 AM

Do you think we should declare this a quarantine? by Michael

Michael was very glad that the girl who’d walked into MARS wanted to join him because if she was in here to do her own thing it might have meant changing the scenery – he wouldn’t have argued, of course, but it was much nicer to keep it his way. He vaguely wondered what she was doing here if she didn’t have anything she wanted to do but he’d just been appreciating the quiet and so it stood to reason that she could have come here to escape the hustle and bustle of the main school. He wasn’t going to ask because it might defeat the point of getting away from things.

“Sure,” he smiled, “You can add onto this one if you like and we can work from opposite ends, or you can just take some of the paper and start your own,” he and Natalie usually worked together, but if they had cousins staying, they sometimes had competitions to see who could make the longest chain. He wasn’t used to anyone asking his opinion, much less putting him in charge of an activity, so he wasn’t about to start directing Jenny in what to do. He wasn’t even sure how to ask whether she knew what to do because he didn’t want to seem patronising. Instead, he kept on with one end of the chain he’d started, hoping she’d be able to see what to do if she didn’t know.

“I think there were more glue sticks in the drawer over there,” he said, nodding in the direction of a little cabinet nearby, as he realised it might be tricky to share.

13 Michael Do you think we should declare this a quarantine? 199 Michael 0 5

Jenny Owens

August 16, 2011 5:00 AM

Go for it.. by Jenny Owens

Jenny had no idea what she was doing. She twisted a bright blue strip of paper round in her hands, curling it into a circle like the boy was doing. How on Earth were you meant to make something if it wouldn't stay in the position you made it into? To her frustration, every time she tried it slid back into its original dead straight form. She glared at the strip, as though it was to be blamed for her lack of knowledge in Muggle decoration techniques.

Then he mentioned something about glue, gesturing to a cabinet and, following the direction of his gaze, she found a little drawer with several knick-knacks in it. One type of instrument was a long, straight wooden thing, with numbers up one side and more numbers (wider spaced) up the other. Another was a set of two little blades attatched to little cirles. She gripped the blades in her fingers and prised them apart - to her surprise, when the blades moved, so did the circles. Getting the idea of it, she slid her fingers into the grips and moved them uncertainly. That was how they seemed to work. Looking across at the boy, she found that he was using a similar thing to create his paper strips, so she pocketed one. In the next drawer there were colouring pencils, which she recognised, and in the next a different array of black and blue pens, and different kinds of lead and graffite pencils.

In the last drawer, she found what she assumed was 'glue'. It was a small tube, with a cap at one end and some kind of twisting mechanics at the other. Down one curved side the word 'Pritstick' beamed out in a gaudy shade of red. Cautiously she pulled off the lid and peered down at the contents. It was colourless, but some of the others came in shades of pink, or green, or yellow, and smelled a slight bit bitter and very addictive. When she tipped it upside down experimentally it did not fall, but when she twisted the bottom it rose or fell accordingly. Very slowly, she pressed a finger to the substance. Her eyebrows shot up - it was cold, malleable under her touch, and sticky. She understood all of a sudden why the paper could stay together.

Moving happily to her original position she looked at her glue happily. Muggles really were ingenious in the ways they figured out to live without magic.

She transferred some of her glue to one end of the paper, and curled the other end to touch it. To her delight, it stayed. Then she realised her problem - now that she'd made a complete circle, she could not attatch it to the chain. She didn't really care - it gave her an excuse to keep her first ever circle of paper.

Reaching out, she picked up the twin blades from where she had left them next to her. 'Muggles really are clever in their inventions,' she sighed happily, surveying the implement. She looked at the boy, 'What do they call these?'

0 Jenny Owens Go for it.. 0 Jenny Owens 0 5